


Mirror Mirror and Other Stories

by irrelephant_multitusking



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: au-ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrelephant_multitusking/pseuds/irrelephant_multitusking
Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a magic mirror, who formed an unlikely friendship with a little boy who had a pair of bright green eyes and a brighter mind.
Kudos: 1





	Mirror Mirror and Other Stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elspethdorkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elspethdorkie/gifts).



> Hello! This is an AU-ish story, set in the magical world, with a few disparities. As of yet, it is a standalone story, I am not entirely sure if I want to continue or write about different characters in the same world. My stories can be found on tumblr, as well, it is linked in my profile. I had written this as an early birthday present for my pal, @Elspethdorkie

Mirror mirror on the wall

Who is the fairest of them all?

Once upon a time, in a far away kingdom, there lived a magic mirror. It was big, shiny and lived a happy life on the hallway wall of the Dursley family home. It was very proud of itself. It had benevolent owners who cleaned it everyday. However, nobody knew that it was magical.

One fine day, the mirror saw a boy. He was small, thin and had a head full of untidy black hair. Bright green eyes peered into its silvery depths as the boy stood on his toes to look into it. His eyes were prettier than anything the mirror had ever seen.

“You, boy! Get your grubby hands away from the mirror!”

He scrambled backwards, face contorting in fear. Sparing a glance towards the mirror, he shuffled away, head tipped downwards.

Soon, the mirror began catching glimpses of the little boy, and learnt that his name was Harry Potter. He was the nephew of its owners and had come to live with them forever. On the rare occasions that the mirror had the opportunity to see Harry’s eyes, they were often filled with tears.

It was a delightful summer evening, when the Dursleys and their cherubic little son, Dudley went to a supper party at the Polkiss Manor. They left Harry behind with the elderly housekeeper, Miss Figg. Harry sounded cheerier than he ever did when the Dursleys were around. When Miss Figg went to feed her cats, Harry walked up to the mirror. He leaned in, nose pressed to the glass. The mirror noted that he had grown taller since their first meeting.

“Why do my Aunt and Uncle dislike me?” he mumbled. “I listen to them, don’t I? I do the chores too.”

He blinked, and his tone became conversational. “It is my birth anniversary today, I sneaked into Uncle Vernon’s workroom and saw the date. Aunt Petunia says that it is a sin to celebrate the day we are born. Why did they celebrate Dudley’s anniversary then? I want a feast like he had.”

He had begun hiccoughing, and for the first time, the mirror felt less proud.

“Why am I not special like Dudley is? Why don’t I have a mother and a father?”

“Because your Aunt and Uncle are not nice people.”

Harry’s head jerked up, eyes widening in surprise. “I wish you well on your birth anniversary, Harry Potter.”

“Who is that?” he yelped as fear set in. He looked around wildly.

“It is me, the mirror.”

~

After the eventful day, Harry gained a friend in the mirror. It had an answer for every question. The mirror delighted in the unending curiosity of his new friend. It was glad to be able to use its ability without fear of being tossed away. All was well for a while.

Then Harry turned eleven.

The Dursley House descended into chaos. The hallway was usually a flurry of movements, frantic shouting and peeps of tensed faces. There were multiple guests at all times of the day. The nights were comparatively calm, broken by the occasional sobbing noises from the sitting room down the hallway. Harry did not arrive for their periodic conversations, which made the mirror sad.

A fortnight into the pandemonium, two guests stood by the mirror. They were furtively glancing around, conversing in whispers. Caught in its own loneliness, the mirror did not feel like eavesdropping, until the phrase “witch hunt” was mentioned. The more they talked, the more its alarm grew. It was during lunch that the mirror found Harry loitering by the coat stand.

“Harry Potter! You must listen to me!”

He jumped, before a look of understanding passed on his face. Inching towards the mirror, he whispered, “Yes?”

“We must talk tonight. It is imperative for your well being. I know why your Uncle and Aunt are in such an awful fright.” Nodding his head, Harry strode away.

Night came fast, the lamps were blown out, the doors bolted and padlocked. It was nearly a quarter past midnight, when the mirror stared into the drowsy face of the child. It took a moment to fondly appreciate Harry’s captivating eyes.

“You said you know why they are upset?”

“I do. It is because you are magical, the way I am.” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed.

“You are a wizard, Harry! You can do magic!”

Instead of excitement, his face showed denial. “That man said the same thing. Hagrid was his name. But Uncle Vernon sent him away. He said that it was a trick to discredit the Dursleys in the town.”

“If I had a hand, I would smack you for your foolishness, boy. You know that I am real, and that magic is real. Why can you not be a wizard, then?”

“But, I don’t-oh no,” he was dismayed. His hands curled into fists. “This means that I am going to be burnt! Just like Morgana Griffiths was burnt at the stake two villages away!”

“No such thing will happen,” the mirror adopted a soothing tone. “You ought to search for that Hagrid bloke. He would guide you to the school for magic.”

Harry stopped pacing around in distress and repeated, “School of magic?”

“Indeed. The school of witchcraft and wizardry, Hogwarts. You would be taught magic there, and I know that you would be a wonderful wizard.”

“Is this truly real?”

The mirror sighed, “Yes, it is. You knew that magic exists, and now you are part of the magical world, Harry. The people in the town will never know about it. Wizards are not evil, the non-magical folk are merely afraid of anything that is different.”

Harry looked deep in thought, and the mirror waited. It was a fabulous concept for the poor boy, it mused sympathetically. He was probably working himself into a panic, because witch burning was a cause of deep concern. It was a little astonishing when Harry looked up and his mouth lifted into a small smile.

“I am magical,” he emphasised, partly looking for assurance, partly to express his joy.

“You are magical. You are a wizard!”

There was a gasp, a shriek and a loud “What?”

Harry whirled around. His smile slipped off his face and was replaced by an expression of unadulterated terror. The mirror showed his image, it had never reflected such a visceral emotion. The Dursleys stood at the foot of the staircase in their night robes, and they had heard every word that was spoken in the mirror’s hallway.

~


End file.
